Admit It
by FanficIsntShameful
Summary: A short (sorry I'm kind of blocked) story about when John and Sherlock finally get around to telling each other how they feel about each other.


John had been gone for a while longer then he had said he would, but he didn't care. He needed space, space to breath. He wasn't sure what he was feeling. He was getting more confused everyday by the series of strange emotions and thoughts that were flooding his mind as his relationship with his best friend became...well he wasn't sure what it was becoming. He felt like it was wrong to feel these thing but he couldn't control it, and the more he tried to suppress it the more valid his arguments against himself had to get back to the flat, but he wasn't sure he could face him again.

Finally, John sighed and turned around. He stood still, looking back in the direction he had come, contemplating everything he had to gain if he went back and everything he would loose if he didn't. Eventually, he began to walk again, slowly, then a little faster, until he was sprinting.

oOo

Sherlock was working on a case, doing tests and various experiments in the flat while awaiting Johns return. But for a long time he didn't...John had said he'd be out walking for about an hour, but that was at half 6. It was nearly 10 now. Sherlock brushed off his feelings of concerns and disappointment. Disappointment...he wasn't used to that feeling in context with John. He didn't want to get used to it. Suddenly, interrupting his thoughts, John burst through the door downstairs. Mrs Hudson exclaimed, but John just hurled himself up the stairs, shoving the door open.

"Well, you look a fright," Sherlock said calmly as John stood in the doorway.

And John did. He was soaking wet and looking very bedraggled. panting and very out of breath, he had an expression on his face strangely akin to the one he had expressed when Sherlock had surprised him at the resteraunt, two years after Sherlock faked his death.

"You-" John began, but had to stoop over and catch his breath.

Sherlock waited. He took off his dressing gown and goggles and sat in his chair, and gestured for John to sit in his. John sat down, and after a minute, he began to speak very quickly.

"You are the only person in this world who means anything to me and you are my best friend but you are so much more, you have saved my life in so many ways and I need you and I love you and I don't understand how I can love you because you're a prick and a machine but you have done so much for me and even though you are a selfish bastard I love you and I love you and I really need a drink."

He was breathless from his run and his speech, but he got up immediately after he had stopped talking and went to the fridge. Of course there was nothing even remotely edible in it, but he pretended to keep looking anyway so he wouldn't have to face Sherlock.

The whole time John had been talking, Sherlock had been listening, but he hadn't heard much of what John had said. He sat in his chair, staring straight ahead, with three words running through his mind. Just three little words, that had come from the mouth and heart of the man he cared most about.

_ I love you. _

_I love you._

_ I love you._

_ I love you._

John had said it four times in the past minute, but Sherlock had thought those words about John at least a million times since the day they met. All of a sudden, and seemingly on their own, Sherlocks legs carried him to where John was at the came up behind him, and grabbed him by his shoulder and spun him around, so John was facing him.

Before John had time to think about maybe going back to his chair, Sherlock was behind him. He whipped John around by grabbing his shoulder, and they stood there, facing each other for about three seconds. They were the longest seconds in both men's lives. An eternity stretched before them, and they drowned in each other's eyes, just looking. They both found what they were looking for, and folded into each other.

Sherlock kissed John then, and John kissed Sherlock. They embraced and clung to each other, and Sherlocks mouth fit into Johns, and he felt Johns tongue under his and he tasted Johns breath, and he felt Johns heart beat against his. His arms were wrapped around Johns waist, his hands splayed, trying to envelope everything this man was. John put his hands on Sherlocks neck, pulling him further into the kiss, sliding his tongue around Sherlock's, breathing him in and finally tasting him as he had for so long ached to.

At last, they pulled from each other, gasping and breathing heavily, hearts racing. They stayed there, in that moment. Foreheads touching, with their arms around each other, both looking at the other mans eyes again. Sherlock whispered into Johns ear.

"I have loved you since the day you walked into my lab and offered me your phone. From the first word I said to you to the words I'm saying now, everything has been for you, about you and because I love you, with everything I am. And I think I always will."

John looked up at Sherlock then, at everything the man was, good and bad. At everything he had become. At everything he was going to be. And he smiled.


End file.
